


the Author is Dead, Long Live the Author

by sharkinfishnets



Category: Original Work
Genre: not sure how to tag this properly?, weird existential despair stuff bc thats all i can write apparently
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:42:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22594987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkinfishnets/pseuds/sharkinfishnets
Summary: This is Mr. Taro Tanaka, age either 16 or 17 (I can never remember which), a certain ordinary high school second year at a certain ordinary high school in a certain ordinary town. He is not aware you are here, but if he was, I’m sure he would be pleased to make your acquaintance. He is not aware that I am here either, but that’s fine. Maybe tomorrow I can reach him. Tomorrow is another day, after all. The season is autumn, a season renown for being all about watching things such as leaves, bugs, and childhood friends die painfully all around you. He doesn’t consider these morbid implications, however. Taro Tanaka simply walks to school like he does during every other season. Alone.
Kudos: 1





	1. A Failed Entrance

**Author's Note:**

> Compiling some old bits and pieces of OC work that I may or may not explain more thoroughly in the future. Taro is my homeboy though.

Taro Tanaka stood at the edge of the rooftop, face pressed up against the chain-link fence, fingers interlacing it. Why? To get a better look. To get a better look at what? The world below. But why was that such an unusual thing? Because this was not the world he knew. It was a chaotic world, with skyscrapers and towers jutting out of a rolling sea, that as far as Taro could tell didn’t keep to one layout for more than 10 seconds. This school rooftop he stood on (at least it looked like a school rooftop) was the only consistent place. That’s right, a chaotic world, a world that’s twisting, turning, churning, burning. All while backed by a sun that never sets, on an evening that will never end. A place outside time. 

Still staring out over the landscape, Taro also noted that it looked like a shitty vaporwave album cover from 2015, and deeply wished he had his phone, so he could send a picture to a certain someone he knew who happened to like that sort of stuff, but people don’t get sent to other worlds under mysterious circumstances with their phones intact. That would just be silly. But anyway, back to talking about-

“How long are you gonna stand there and have an internal monologue? I don’t have all day!”  
Startled by the unknown voice, Taro whipped around to see a girl in a sailor uniform and gas mask crossing her arms at him. She looked… younger than him by some measure or another, but a full-face gas mask really makes it hard to read another person’s face. 

“Finally, I have your attention. Taro Tanaka, do you know who I am?”

Again, full face gas mask. Not only did it cover her face, it muffled and distorted her voice to the point where even if she was someone Taro knew very well, he wouldn’t be able to recognize her. He shook his head, giving the universal signal for “No”, or “Absolutely Not”, or “There is a Wasp on the Back of My Head and I Would Like it to Leave”. 

“Figures. It isn’t supposed to be like this anyhow. This is a place outside time, a Floating World, and sometimes anomalies slip in,” The girl muttered to herself, fiddling with the vent on her mask. “There’s nothing to be done about I suppose.”

Taro finally managed to push through his lingering confusion enough to actually talk, sputtering “Wait wait wait, who are you? What are we doing here? Where is ‘here’ anyway? Did the 3rd Impact happen yet?” He had previously been absorbed by trying to make sense of his surroundings, but the appearance of someone who seemed to know what she was talking about (or at least more than Taro did), brought the opportunity to sate his curiosity.

“Cool your jets hot-shot, I’m getting to it. I shouldn’t even be telling you this, but I think I’ll regret it if I don’t.” She started pacing back and forth, like a tiger in a too-small cage, then continuing her explanation. “I’m Mei Nakamura. I woke up in this strange space one day without any memories. I’m somewhere around middle school age, and I can occasionally peek into what I can only assume is the ‘real world’. Got it?” She punctuates this last point by stopping in front of Taro and poking him in the chest. He nods, taking a step back and subsequently bumping into the chain-link fence. Personal space did not seem to be one of Mei’s strong suits.

“But, none of that has anything to do with me, so why am I here?” Taro questioned, pointing at himself. This conversation seemed to be going around in circles.

“I’M. GETTING. TO IT. Has no one ever told you that patience is a virtue, Taro Tanaka? The thing about seeing the real world, is that my glimpse is always following you. Your peaceful daily life, your friends and low-stakes conflicts that are always resolved after 25 minutes, a world where your biggest concern is what to eat for lunch. You are my best chance at crossing between these worlds. Except… in this anomalous timeline, it won’t happen. Everything has to line up just right, but it won’t happen. You were doomed from the moment you came into existence.” Instead of accurately explaining the circumstances, the more Mei talked, the more confusion clogged the atmosphere surrounding her and Taro. “This conversation was meaningless, all we can do is shuffle the deck and play again.” Mei takes off the mask, revealing a face that Taro doesn’t recognize at all. “Tomorrow is another day, after all. Goodnight, Taro Tanaka.”

With that, she pushes him through the spot where a chain-link fence used to be, over the edge of the rooftop. With that, Taro Tanaka falls, and falls, and falls.

Taro Tanaka wakes up to the sensation of his little sister violently shaking him back to the waking world, with no few repetitions of “Hey, get up!” and “You’re gonna be late!” as well as a few rounds of “Aren’t you supposed to be the responsible, older sibling?!?”. Normally he’s better at getting up on time, but today seems to be an exception. Eventually, Taro becomes awake enough to wave off the bratty 12 year old harassing him, and sits up, with the vague half-formed memories of his dream from the night before still clinging to his brain. What was it about again? There was a person and a place, colors and the feeling of falling, but he simply could not get more specific than that. He pushed his attempts to decipher the jumbled sensations to the back of his brain, and decided to start his day. You know how it is with dreams, they aren’t often important anyhow.


	2. Empty Classroom, Empty School, Empty City

There are three-and-a-half people in this classroom. There is Taro Tanaka, seated in the back left, by the window (of course. Where else would he sit?). There is Futaba Yamada, seated directly in front of him (after all, how else could they discreetly talk in class?). There is Aiko Aizawa, seated dead center in the classroom (close enough to the others to be grouped with them, far enough to show her separation from other people). Mei Nakamura does not have a body, and thus does not have a seat in the classroom, or classification as a full person according to this classroom’s arbitrary definition of personhood, of which having a body is significant to. In addition, there are a multitude of empty desks lined up neatly, as desks tend to be in almost-empty classrooms, a chalkboard with notes that don’t matter for a subject that doesn’t matter, and a tape recorder playing back the last bits and pieces of the day’s lesson. 

“That’s all for today, please don’t f-forget that-t-t-t questions 9 through 9-9-9-9-9-9-9-”

Aiko Aizawa gets up from her desk, walks to the front of the room, and gives the malfunctioning tape recorder what would be described as a “swift smack upside the head” if it were a person and not a tape recorder. It shuts off, but it is unclear if that fixed the issue or just broke it more. She turns around and looks back at the mostly empty room. It wouldn’t matter if it was mostly full, rather than mostly empty, because it would mostly be full of people that you or I do not care about, so it may as well be empty. 

“Guess it’s time to go.” Declares Aiko. She declares this, rather than states it as something to be disputed, because it really is time to go. Taro Tanaka and Futaba Yamada respond to this with affirmative noises and by standing up from their desks. Mei Nakamura does not have a desk to stand up from, and if she were to make any affirmative noises then no one in the room would be able to hear them, but she also agrees. It would not matter if she agreed or not, however, because she’s stuck in this situation no matter what, but she agrees nonetheless.

The three-and-a-half of them file out of the (now completely) empty classroom, and start making their collective way to a different empty classroom, on the other side of the school. As they proceed, it becomes increasingly evident to an onlooker that the school is truly empty, not in the way that a cup is empty, with drops still freshly clinging to the sides and the promise that it will be filled again, but in the way that a recently sold house that never gets moved into is empty, kept in a transitional period forever. The only sounds are the bells signaling the end of the school day, the footsteps of exactly three people (recall that the other half-person does not have a body, and therefore no feet to step with), and settling noises of a building slightly overdue for renovations. 

Futaba, who is leading the way, stops their march in the hallway by looking out the window, and slowing her walk, causing the rest of the group to slow as well. They also look out the window, trying to determine what it could be out there that is so interesting that it would cause Futaba to stop. Futaba isn’t really looking at anything in particular, she is interpreting the early evening light and maple leaves drifting to the ground as a metaphor for impermanence, and is wondering if the relationships she holds and this pleasant period in her life can really last. She does not voice any of this to the other two-and-a-half people standing behind her in confusion, so to them it just looks like she’s staring out the window blankly.

“Ah, sorry. I was just thinking that the maple trees here are so pretty at this time of year, let’s keep going,” she says instead. Her explanation is accepted without question, and they continue without further interruption.

There are one-and-a-half people sitting on the swings at the local park. On the right is Taro Tanaka, who is not having the best day of his life. On the left is Mei Nakamura, who despite not having a body is approximating sitting because that’s just what one does on a swing. Evening is on the edge of being swallowed up by night, and it is slightly later than a boy (for Taro Tanaka, despite all his crises, is still a boy) should be out semi-alone. However, there is no one around, and if there were people around, they would not be anyone you or I cared about, so it doesn’t matter.

“You should head back soon. Your sister will worry about you,” Mei states, not looking directly at him. She is right. Taro knows she’s right. His sister worries more than any twelve year-old should. He wants to say that he would rather call up Futaba and Aiko again, to do something distracting like watching a bad movie and talking about weekend plans. He wants to say that he doesn’t really know anything about his sister even though they live together and it’s a little concerning. He wants to ask why this city is always empty. But all that comes out is: 

“Just a little bit longer.”

“Fine. Five minutes.”

Taro sits back in the swing and lifts his feet up, holding the chains so he doesn’t fall. The chains are cold to the point of hurting to hold onto for more than a few seconds. It’s hard to believe that it’s this time of the year already. He should’ve packed gloves. At least it isn’t dark, there are more than enough street lights for one to find their way home no matter the hour. Taro leans forward again, like he is going to use the swing for its intended purpose rather than as a place to sit and mope, but without enough force behind it to get any real momentum. 

For Mei, almost everywhere is a designated place to sit and mope, because there isn’t much else she can do without a body. But not here, at least not now. Right now she is appreciating just being next to someone who can see her and talk to her, even if they aren’t looking at each other, and aren’t actively speaking. It’s the fact that the lack of looking and the lack of speaking are choices, and not pushed upon her. They sit on the swings for another five minutes in silence, before Taro Tanaka gets up and begins his walk home, and Mei Nakamura follows.


End file.
